


How could this happen to me?

by adamadillo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison and Peter are mentioned briefly, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamadillo/pseuds/adamadillo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Derek just has to sit down and think about his life choices.</p><p>As well as Stile's choices in music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How could this happen to me?

It had been a _rough day_.

Actually, rough day seemed like a bit of a fucking understatement. More like near homicidal break day, the day he wanted to drown all his pack in a river day, the day he nearly said fuck it, ripped his clothes off and ran out into the wild to live with actual fucking wolves because what in the _hell_ had possessed him when he decided it was a good idea to wrangle together a group of bratty _kids_ for a pack.

Derek wasn’t sure what the hell had been wrong with all of them—though maybe he was lucky he’d managed to keep them all in line as much as he had, and this was just reality slapping him in the face. Teenagers were rowdy, and if he hadn’t believed it before ( which he had because he wasn’t an idiot ) he did now. For the entire day, be it going over strategies, trying to teach them about background information or sparring, it was like interacting with brick walls. Though at least the bricks would have been able to take hits better than them, and whined less about it.

Scott was wibbling over his break-up ( “It’s not a break up, it’s—it’s just a break!” ) with Allison, Jackson was being his normal self, an egotistical little jackass who couldn’t learn to follow orders, the “troublesome trio” ( as Stiles had so _wonderfully_ named them ) had spent the majority of the day chattering to themselves and Lydia, who was there for the most part to watch over Jackson, while Stiles—

Stiles had been Stiles. Though that was at least a comforting normality of the day, combined with everything else he literally had to force himself now to throw him through a window, or another object that just might get him to shut the hell up.

Everyone was either distracted, lippy or just plain irritating, and Derek had sent them all home early, partly for their benefit on the offhand chance he flipped his lid and beat the shit out of all of them—but mostly for himself.

Which was why after everything else that needed to be done was done, and night had fallen, Derek had said fuck everything else and crawled into his bed and just— lay there, sprawled out on the mattress with his face pressed into the pillow. Normally he wasn’t one for such dramatics, he’d have rolled his eyes at himself if he wasn’t so fucking tired, but he really did need to wonder when the hell his life had taken the turn it did.

Oh, yeah. When his Uncle went off his rocker and decided to bite an asthmatic kid in the middle of the woods.

 _Fucking Peter_.

Derek had almost drifted off, eyes half lidded and body relaxed, and he’d later chalk that up to why he didn’t sense anyone else’s presence in the house. Not until he started to hear the soft hum of music did his eyes snap open.

**How could this happen to me**

His ears perk up.

**I made my mistakes**

He pushes himself up onto his elbows

**Got nowhere to run**

Rolls over

**The night goes on as I’m fading away**

He really doesn't want to look. 

**I’m sick of this life**

Maybe this is one horrible, stress induced nightmare. 

**I just want to scream**

He looks, despite himself. 

**How could this happen to me?**

At first all he sees is a bright light sticking out from the doorway, which when he looks is illuminating a face, grin wide and eyes amused and fuck he should have known— 

“Tough day, grumpy gills?” Stiles all but coos, not bothering to pause the song, settling for snickering and shoving it into the front pocket of his sweater. “It was kind of obvious that you were about ready to shank someone with the nearest blunt object during the pack meeting today— so I figured I’d come visit you, and brighten your day a bit with music!” 

Stile’s name bubbles in the form of a growl in his throat before he even realizes it, and by the look on the kid’s face his eyes flash red—though he doesn't have much time to take in his expression before he’s dashing after him throughout the halls of his house. 

( the music did jack shit, but tackling Stiles to the ground and hearing him shriek like a five year old girl may have helped the tiniest bit )

**Author's Note:**

> This little beauty came to me talking with my friend about just how ridiculous some of Derek's life choices are ( especially his choice in pack ).
> 
> Poor Derek.
> 
> This is also my first story posted on here, and me trying to get used to the HTML and the what not. So bear with me on that for a while, kthx.


End file.
